Prussia, pwned
by psychoflower
Summary: Italy beats prussia, and prussia is made fun of by france. btw, I wrote this at midnight after drinking four cups of hot chocolate in quick succession. i don't even remember writing the second half of this, much less posting it.


Prussia walked down the hall, hoping to avoid Germany.  
>"why is that idiot always trying to get me to gel my hair? its bad enough he does, i shouldn't have to-" his rants were interrupted by loud screams and cries of pasta. Prussia froze. that was Italy's voice!<br>"maybe west will leave me alone now..." he muttered. " now to find a closet or something so i can hide from Italy..."  
>"wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" came a cry from down the hall. along came Italy, dragging a tired looking Germany.<br>" must you always do this?"  
>"vee, what do you mean?"<br>Prussia paled. where could he hide from that dreadful Italy? maybe in ...  
>"oh, hi Prussia! do you have any pasta?" Italy smiled<br>"sorry, man, but the awesome Prussia has no pasta."Prussia forced a smile. why didn't they leave already?  
>"bruder, perhaps you would like to join us in combat practice?" Germany straightened up.<br>"the awesome Prussia does not DO combat practice." Prussia said smugly.  
>"is that why you re not a country anymore?" asked a curious Italy<br>"what! I! you!" Prussia looked over to Germany for help, only to find his younger brother laughing, albeit silently.  
>"H-he has a point, you know!" Germany gasped for breath.<br>fuming, Prussia turned to leave. " well, you two LOSERS can do combat practice, but I'm going to Spain's house."  
>"oh, say hi to Romano for me!" Italy smiled.<br>"Romano..." Prussia looked at Italy. "didn't Romano move to your house?"  
>"vee~ he said I was annoying so he moved back." Italy shrugged.<br>Prussia cringed." in THAT case, I'm going to Frances house..."

after making his way over to France's house, Prussia was beginning to regret his decision.  
>"Mon Ami, you simply CANNOT let Italy best you like that!" France grinned<br>"WHAT! NO, I AM SIMPLY TOO AWESOME TO FIGHT THAT... THAT... AAGGGHHHHHHH!"was Prussia's reply.  
>"ohonhonhon, but it is true, non?"<br>grimacing, Prussia glared at France. "and what do YOU think I should do?"  
>"have a contest,no? "<br>Prussia started to object, but he then realized how genius it was. he would best Italy, and make him pay for... for... for what exactly? Italy was just being his stupid self, after all.  
>"and if you beat Italy, then you will prove the rumors wrong, no?"<br>Prussia paused in his thoughts. "... what rumors?"  
>"you mean you haven't heard?" chuckled France. "well, it goes something like this: you are a conceited, lily livered, weak, annoying, judgmental, narcissistic, incompetent, shallow, pathetic, spineless, wishy-washy, puny, worthless, contemptible, unbearable, disgusting, detestable, disgraceful, weakling low-life who can be beaten in a fight by Italy."<br>Prussia stuttered."w-who said that?"  
>France shrugged. "America, England, Denmark, Austria, Poland, turkey, Cuba, Finland, Sweden, Greece, Romano, Belarus, Hong Kong, Norway, Taiwan, Korea, Sealand, and china."<br>with each name, Prussia got paler and paler."all of those people.. said that... about me?"  
>France thought for a second."well Greece only nodded, but yes, they said that about you. oh, and England also says you re a wanker."<br>"NOOOOOO!" screamed Prussia."they all hate me!"  
>"well, we could have you fight and prove them wrong," started France<br>"that's a great idea!" cried Prussia "i shall prove my awesomeness!"  
>"... but are you sure you ll win? you re kind of out of shape, non?"<br>"NOT YOU TOO!"

Prussia and Italy faced off. Italy had only agreed because Germany promised to give him pasta. seeing Prussia in the ring, Italy immediately put his battle plan into action.  
>"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! i surrender!" Italy cried, waving his white flag as hard as he could. unfortunately, Prussia had picked that exact time to charge. he was whacked in the head by Italy's flag and immediately passed out.<p>

-3 days later-

Italy sat on the sidelines, eating pasta while watching Prussia run laps.


End file.
